His Limits
by MostlyScrubbed
Summary: The gang has a little too much fun. Includes Scotcholadas, enchiladas, Spike TV, and sunshine of several varieties. Non-graphic slashiness.
1. His Approach

**A/N: Hiya folks. Took a short break from My Vaycay to write the hockey fics, and then this one popped into my head. I'll return to My Vaycay soon, I promise. More chapters to follow on this one as well, will try alternating chapters on these bad boys.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, especially not Scrubs. Well I do, but they're the kind you wear to work and get blood and puke and other bodily fluids on. Oh yeah, most glamorous job ever. Um, oh right, I also own rum. Piña colada time, indeed.**

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**His Limits- His Approach**

Perry Cox knew his limits.

He knew exactly how many glasses of scotch he could drink and still function. He could be falling-down drunk and about to pass out and still work the coffee machine. Five and he could still make the TiVo playback last week's game. Three and he'd be able to suck it up enough to actually make it to their apartment and not run screaming the minute they opened the door. He'd tried that on number two before, and damn, had he regretted it. It wasn't quite enough. Four and he was a bit too relaxed. But three was just perfect.

Getting there at number three was something of a work of art. He'd have one drink before he even got ready, just enough to soothe his nerves. He'd take a shower, get dressed, lace up the sneakers. He'd start on the second drink while he turned off the lights and locked the door and made his way down to the car, finishing by the time he revved the beautiful girl up. And three would come after he had arrived and parked outside along the curb. Perry always took his time with three, letting it soak in a bit more than the others, sometimes sitting out there upwards of half an hour. He liked just looking at the building while he drank number three. He appreciated that it didn't have the pretentiousness of most buildings in the area. There were no spindly eucalyptus trees growing along the sidewalk, trying to look regal but instead being beaten and wilted by the Southern California sun. No potted flowers, no balloons attached to cheerful signs advertising rooms for rent. Nondescript red and beige brick glared at him, stripped down bare and honest. He'd count the bricks on bad nights, trying to bring some semblance of order back into his life, and on good nights he'd stare up at the fire escape, tracing the zigzagging ladder and railings skyward with his eyes.

Tonight he wondered how long it would take him to scale the building. He could probably jump high enough to grasp the lowest rungs of the escape, pull himself up, and run full tilt up the thing in twenty seconds. Not like it was ever likely to happen, but it was interesting to think about. He considered it, swishing his drink around, when there was a tap on his window.

Perry swiveled, rolling the window down. "How can I help you, officer?" he said more politely than usual.

"You can start by telling me how long you've been out here drinking." She smiled pleasantly.

With a glance at the clock, Perry did some math. It was 9:42. "Twenty-seven minutes, officer," he replied, glad he was only on number three. His math skills began to go around four.

The police officer stripped off a glove and laid a hand on the hood of his Porsche. She made a noncommittal noise. "Strange place to drink, you know, outside your apartment. Why not inside instead?"

Perry snorted. "This isn't _my_ apartment."

"Oh? Well you have to understand that from my perspective that sounds even creepier, sir." Her voice was gentle, unhardened. He looked at her face. She was young, probably relatively new to the force. Any other cop would've hauled him out of the car by now. He decided to use this to his advantage.

"I'm sorry, officer," Perry sighed. "I know that sounds odd. The thing is…" he let the sentence hang as he glanced at the apartment building. "Well, some pals of mine from work live here, they're having a get-together. And one of them is this unbelievably beautiful woman." _Tsk tsk, Per, you're a horrible person. Lies of omission are still lies._ He shrugged off his conscience as he tapped the sides of his glass, hoping to come off embarrassed and shy. "I'm just trying to get the confidence up to go in there, you know?" He sighed again, half for effect and half because he felt somewhat bad about yanking this young cop around.

The officer smiled and straightened herself up. "Well I'm going to let you go then. Ran your plates and they're clean. The next guy who comes along won't be as nice as me though, could try to make an open container case out of this. You'd better take it inside sooner rather than later. Now you have a good evening." Her boots clacked on the asphalt as she made her way back to the squad car, leaving Perry in silence once again. He watched approvingly as she walked away in his rear-view mirror.

Perry knocked back the rest of the scotch and tossed the glass over his shoulder and onto the back seat. Reaching into the foot well of the passenger seat, he withdrew a paper bag with several bottles of alcohol, including the nearly empty scotch bottle he'd been pouring from. He shoved his keys into his jeans pocket as he emerged from the car and turned to see the squad car still parked behind him. Giving her a little wave, he smiled meekly and walked toward the apartment building.

He rolled his eyes as soon as he was out of her sight. "For crying out loud," muttered Perry as he waited for the elevator. He twisted the top off the scotch, drained it, and stepped inside just before the doors closed. Number four, down the hatch. _Oh well, it's probably for the best. Gonna need it tonight._

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"I think someone's at the door, JD," Elliot tried to yell over the din of the apartment, her head lolling back in JD's lap.

"Elliot!" scolded JD. "Don't move. You're messing up my handiwork."

She looked up at him with bleary eyes. "How does it look so far?"

JD frowned. "It looks stupid because you keep moving! Now stay still or your hair is going to stay half braided forever." He tied a colorful scrunchie around one French braid with a flourish and pushed her head back up into an upright position before setting to work on the other half of her hair. He'd tried doing her hair while they were both sitting on the couch, but he had a much better angle with her sitting on the floor with her back to the couch. He was grateful for something to occupy him, as he was fairly tipsy and everyone knew he got "handsy" when he was tipsy.

*knock knock knock*

Elliot looked up at JD from her seat on the floor. "I really think someone's at the door. Aren't you going to at least check?"

Frowning, JD cocked his head and listened, but could only hear the television blaring and the base thumping as music poured out of a pair of tall floor speakers. "Hey could you guys turn that down for a minute?!" JD yelled at Turk and Carla who were grooving to hip-hop music, beers in hand. They either couldn't hear him or ignored him, as he got no response. He looked back down at Elliot. "Maybe it's just Mrs. Thomas and her broom from downstairs." He stomped on the floor and leaned down. "THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR HAVING THAT CRAZY TUPPERWARE PARTY LAST FRIDAY! HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!" Shrugging, he returned his focus to Elliot's hair.

*BANG BANG BANG*

JD leaped about a foot off the couch. "I uh, guess someone's here!" He patted an eye-rolling Elliot on the head as he jumped up and made his way to the door. Glancing at his watch, he frowned. _Almost ten already? Who could it possibly… oh crap._

He peered through the peek hole. A sandy-haired head was bowed, its owner staring at the floor. With a sigh the man turned slowly and began to walk back the way he came, towards the elevator.

_Oh crap! I had no idea he was… I didn't think he'd really… OH CRAP!_

JD whirled around. "HEY!" he yelled. His three friends turned to him, identical baffled expressions on their faces. "Turk, turn down the music! Carla, put in some popcorn! And for the love of God, Elliot, turn OFF the My Little Pony special and put something else on! HURRY!"

It took a moment for the inebriated trio to spring to action, but they followed JD's orders quickly. Once he was satisfied, JD opened the door and dashed into the hall.

"Dr. Cox!"

Perry stopped mid-stride, about to enter the elevator, and turned towards his shouting protégé. Straightening, he stepped back into the hallway and let the doors shut. _Here goes nothing._ "Well, if it isn't the Hostess with the Mostest. I thought maybe your little tea party had ended early and you were getting all wrapped up in your Rainbow Brite sleeping bags, watching My Little Pony and waiting 'til your first gal pal fell asleep so you could put her bra in the freezer."

_He knows! Keep it inside JD, don't let him see how close he is!_ "You're late!" JD said weakly. _Good front, go with it! _"Well come on. What's in the bag?"

Frowning, Perry crossed the short distance to JD and shoved the bag into his arms. "You told me to bring rum, so I brought, surprise, rum. Oh, and a little something for me, because I'm sure whatever you're mixing up with that crap is something I won't be interested in." He sniffed, brushed the bridge of his nose in Perrylike fashion, and crossed his arms over his chest.

JD's eyes went wide. "But I… You really… Umm…"

"Yeah, time to finish a sentence there Chiquita. I don't have all night."

JD grinned. "Thanks, Dr. Cox. Come on in." He stepped back into the apartment and waved the bottle of rum at his friends. "Hey guys! It's piña colada time!"

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	2. His Interval

**A/N: Chapter two! Bonus points to anyone who sees where I'm going with the chapter titles. I'm going to try to have another chapter of this (it's mostly written already) and a chapter of Our Vaycay up this week. Thanks all for reading, I love those of you who have reviewed, and hope this chapter will help sustain those of you who have to go on vacation through the hard summery months ahead (*nudge andaere* :D )**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs or the characters written about herein. I also don't own MXC, though I frickin' love it. "Let's get it on" indeed!**

**Warnings: Li'l bit of cussing.**

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**His Limits –His Interval**

Perry hesitated just outside the threshold to the apartment, feeling like an intruder. What seemed to be two happy couples moved around inside. He could hear JD sorting through the bottles he'd brought with him, and saw Elliot sitting on the couch, flipping through the television channels with the remote. Turk sat relaxing in an overstuffed chair, guffawing; Carla walked over to him, handed him a beer, and sat in his lap. He watched them exchange a sweet kiss and looked away, embarrassed.

"He still just standing there?" Turk muttered quietly. He popped the top off of his beer and drank deeply, tossing the cap onto the coffee table.

Carla elbowed him. "Be nice. You promised." She glanced sidelong at Perry, watching him scratch the back of his neck and then shove his hands into his jacket pockets. "He'll come in. Give him a minute." She kissed Turk on the nose and turned to Elliot, chatting about what station they should watch.

It took more than just a minute, but Perry eventually made it in. He shut the door quietly, waving in greeting to the three in the living room. Shedding his coat, he walked stiffly towards the kitchen, once again loitering just outside. JD had his back to him, humming loudly, scooping ice and tossing it into a blender along with pineapple juice and the rum he'd brought. Perry opened his mouth, about to spout some offhanded comment about girly drinks when JD switched on the blender, drowning out his intentions as well as the conversation in the living room and whatever was on the television. With a shrug, Perry leaned against the wall, waiting for his opportunity to jolt JD back to reality. He wouldn't dare startle him with the blender going. That would just end up with somebody sliced to ribbons and a lot of decent alcohol going to waste.

A feminine hand touched his shoulder, and Perry turned to see Carla. She raised herself on her tiptoes so Perry leaned down to accommodate her. "Thanks for coming, Perry," she said in his ear. "We're even now." She gave him her prettiest smile and reached past him into the fridge, selecting another couple of beers before making her way back to the living room.

He sighed. Carla had always had his number, it was true. But he had also owed her one for a long time, and she'd finally called in the favor. _The kid damn well better appreciate this. I could've gotten out of this if I wanted to. Well, wait a minute there. Which is worse, not being able to get out of this, or not wanting to? Crap, I need another drink._ Perry snagged the fresh bottle of scotch, just out of JD's line of vision, and cracked it open. _Number five. Now we're talking._

The scotch washed over him immediately, relaxing him a bit. His vision began to blur around the edges, so he narrowed his focus to something in the middle of his field of view. He stared at the back of JD's t-shirt. It appeared to be years old and well-worn, the collar fraying in places. The tag was sticking up, so faded that he couldn't make out a single word on it. JD began to bob his head back and forth to whatever tune he was humming, causing the tag to rub against his skin. Perry frowned at the offending piece of cloth. Oddly, his hand came into view; without realizing it he had been reaching toward the tag and his fingers were now inches from it. The blender cut out suddenly, jolting Perry and causing him to deepen his scowl, but it wasn't enough to deter him from his inebriated mission. So he extended his arm the final distance and, against his better, less inebriated judgment, carefully tucked the tag back under JD's shirt.

JD's hand flew to the back of his neck, checking to see what had happened. He whirled around and spotted Perry, smiling brightly.

Perry flushed and opened his mouth, and for the second time nothing came out. Instead JD looked past him and said, "Thanks, Elliot. Drinks are almost ready." He turned back to his project and began to pour the frozen concoction into four tall glasses.

A look of confusion passed between Perry and Elliot. He decided sourly _(Really, Perry, really?)_ that JD must have thought she had fixed his tag. She held an armful of empty bottles, probably the reason _she_ thought he was thanking her. Shrugging, she opened the cabinet under the sink and tossed them into the can before wobbling back to rejoin Carla and Turk.

Perry watched as JD carefully (lovingly?) garnished the drinks with cherries and tiny umbrellas, and finally broke his silence. "Well now, how many drinks have you had so far tonight, Pumpkin? Am I going to have to bar you from using the heavy machinery there for the rest of the night, or are you going to be a good girl and let me man the bar?"

Snickering, JD glanced over his shoulder. "This makes four, but the other three were just a couple of wussy beers, so I'm okay for now. But after this one, oh boy, watch out! I made 'em strong and manly and delicious!" He sipped from one to demonstrate and ended up wheezing through his mouth. "Strong like bull! Woo! Want one?" He waved the glass in front of Perry's face in an attempt to tantalize the man into taking a drink.

"Hell no. Your drink is manly like Elizabeth Manley is manly." Perry took a gulp from his bottle of scotch and retaliated, waving it under JD's nose. "Want some of this instead? It'll put some hair on your chest, which, you know, would give the one you have now some company."

JD sulked and turned away. "You know I can't drink that stuff," he said quietly. He faced Perry again, holding up two fresh drinks. "Give these to Carla and Elliot, will you? And if you change your mind, there's extra in the blender still."

Perry scoffed at the offer and took the drinks, leaving an almost sullen JD in the kitchen. He handed off the drinks to the ladies and sat on the far end of the couch, leaving a large gap between himself and Elliot._ Christ, this is going to be a painful evening. Can't even mock Cupcake like usual without her threatening to burst into tears. Okay, wipe off the slate here before Carla gets wind of it and breaks the deal. _"Alright," he groaned as he settled back, "you guys got me. What the hell is that on the television?"

"Dude, Dr. Cox, it's MXC!" Turk said in his most excited-yet-still-a-brother way. "You're gonna love it, and if you don't, I'll eat, uh, this umbrella?"

With a smirk at Carla that said _Nice idiot scalpel jock husband ya got there,_ Perry said, "Great, that's soooo very helpful. Now what does MXC stand for?"

Elliot perked up, the drive to seem knowledgeable taking over even as she fought to keep her drink upright. "That would be Most Extreme Elimination Challenge. It's actually a Japanese game show that takes itself very seriously, but is then dubbed over by American voice actors to make it sound even more outrageous than it really is." She smiled smugly, sipping her fruity cocktail with a flair.

"As if watching tiny people in short shorts getting run over by boulders isn't funny enough by itself!" laughed JD, handing a frosty glass to Turk before plopping down between Elliot and Perry.

Turk glared at JD. "You know you wouldn't laugh half as hard without Vic and Kenny and the Captain, man. 'Let's get it on!' Come on, you know I'm right." He thrust his fist towards JD, across Elliot's lap.

JD finished gulping his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Chocolate Bear, I can't remember what you just said, but if you think so, then you're damn well right! Am I right? No, wait, you were the one who was right… right?" He giggled and met Turk's fist with his own, a solid if drunken fist-bump. A little too much effort went into the follow-through, though, and he landed face up on Elliot's lap, howling in laughter.

"It's a ridiculous concept, but I gotta admit, it's pretty amusing so far," conceded Perry. He watched the action on the television in blessed silence for a bit. A skinny wisp of a bespectacled man was crashing through a series of paper walls, bouncing off once in a while before finding the right opening. He eventually broke through a wall only to come face to face with an enormously fat and angry fellow in an ostentatious mockery of a geisha costume. Perry chuckled, drinking straight from his bottle of scotch. After a moment he noticed it had been quiet for a while, and looking around the room he saw three sets of eyes upon him, each wide in surprise. "What?" Perry asked, annoyed. He then followed their gazes down and blanched.

JD had unwittingly thrown his legs up as he had fallen on the couch, and they had landed right across Perry's lap.

And incredulous Perry slowly turned to look at his intoxicated protégé. JD was totally oblivious, watching television and laughing loudly while chewing on a cherry stem and twirling a tiny pink umbrella in his hand. "Hahaha! Look, you guys! He so totally fell over!" squeals of laughter fell endlessly from the young doctor's mouth.

Perry grinned despite himself, gently placing a hand on JD's knee. "You think falling people are funny there, Carmen Miranda?"

The question was apparently funnier than the show, because JD began to laugh so hard he snorted.

"Well I think that answers my question, then. See you next fall!" With that, Perry grabbed JD's pants leg and pulled sharply, sending JD spinning in midair before tumbling off the couch and onto the floor. A gleeful expression radiated from Perry's face as he mimicked, "Teeheehee! Look, you guys! He fell over!"

The three others who still remained sitting snickered along until they realized JD was no longer laughing. Turk took the lead and leaned over to look at JD with concern. "Hey buddy, you alright down there?" He punctuated the ever so caring gesture by poking JD's head repeatedly with his sock-covered foot.

"Tuuuuuurk," whined JD, "I think I found that enchilada you lost last week."

Carla and Elliot jumped up, alternately attempting to clean up the mess on the floor and scolding the guys for said mess. Turk and Perry shared a chuckle as JD tried unsuccessfully to climb up off the floor, and eventually each of them grabbed him by the shirt to haul him back onto the couch.

JD harrumphed. "I feel gross." He turned to Perry and smiled crookedly. "Will you help me in the bathroom? I don't think I can do it by myself."

Perry grunted uncomfortably. "Don't look at me, Rapunzel. I with neither hold your hair, nor pat your back, nor dab your barfy, girly mouth when it's all over." _Oh come on. You know you would, you incredible bastard. You promised Carla you'd at least be decent to him, so buck up and have another drink for crying out loud. Number six is it? _The scotch ran down his throat faster than he had intended, but it was welcome nonetheless.

"Nononono. I _feel_ gross." JD twisted himself around on the couch to show Perry his right side: week-old enchilada was caked onto his face and smeared on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

With a groan, Perry stood up with surprising stability. "Don't suppose I could get out of this little field trip if I broke this bottle over my own head and stabbed myself with the pointy end?" He brandished his scotch bottle, the dwindling liquid sloshing within.

JD hiccupped thoughtfully. "Naw. We'd just have to clean you up too!" He hauled himself up and tottered unsteadily to his small bathroom. "Ew, ew, gross, ew…"

"Ew, ew, my pretty pretty face is ruined! Now I'll never make the photo shoot for Ladies' Home Journal!" mocked Perry in a high-pitched voice under his breath. He shot a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone had heard him (mildly concerned about that) or if anyone cared that he was about to follow Her Highness into her powder room (okay, moderately concerned about that). Elliot and Turk were drunkenly blathering on about the antics on television, thankfully, but Carla shot him a quick look as he walked away. It was very _I know something you don't know,_ and Perry didn't like it one bit. He tried his best to glare scarily, which was apparently not very effective because she just smirked and turned her attention back to the piña colada in her hand.

Several muted crashes, a muttered curse and a solid thump echoed from the bathroom. Perry sighed, deciding he'd better get on with it. He took another long drink from the bottle before setting it on the kitchen counter. Rounding the corner to the bathroom, he stopped in his tracks and was barely able to contain a fit of laughter.

An array of hair care products, lotion bottles, body sprays and other toiletries were strewn all across the counter and floor, some still rolling with diminishing momentum. One bottle in particular continued on its merry way after the rest had come to a stop, rolling lopsidedly until it plunked against the side of the bathtub. Perry stared at the cheerful blue label: _Dancing Waters Body Mist._ He snorted.

"Dr. Cox?" mumbled JD, voice echoing slightly.

Perry's eyes whipped upward. Lying prone in the bathtub was an almost-shirtless JD. He had nearly managed to extricate himself from his t-shirt, which was currently stuck around his neck and covering his face and head. His arms flailed sluggishly, ineffectively batting at the fabric. He giggled.

"Good Gods in the Garden, Princess Diana, you've been flying all night without your wonderbra? How the heck have you been so perky all night without it?"

"C'mon," moaned JD, "little help please? I'm running out of air in here!" He groped about blindly.

Perry considered the younger man reclining, bare skin against the smooth whiteness of the tub. JD's t-shirt had somehow gotten turned around on his head, leaving the faded tag sticking out, fluttering, mocking. _Traitorous little bastard,_ he spat internally. _Well, get on with it. Be nice, or something._ "Fine, hold still." With a fluid motion Perry placed a steadying hand on JD's shoulder before gripping and pulling on the t-shirt. It came off fairly easily, leaving JD sitting straight up in the bathtub.

"I can breathe!" exalted JD, thrusting his fists skyward. He slipped further into the tub, his sock feet wiggling in the air as he tried to regain balance. His snickers echoed through the bathroom.

"I said hold _still,_ you idiot," Perry snapped. He turned on the tub's faucet.

JD looked around, abashed, and somehow focused his blurry vision on the hand clamped on his shoulder. His eyes moved warily between it and the water slowly creeping towards him. "Wait, what… what are you—"

Perry rolled his eyes. "Look over here, Cupcake," he growled, pushing JD's face away from the faucet. He held the crumpled t-shirt under the running faucet for a moment before turning it off. JD whipped his head back in that direction, starting at the sudden lack of noise and fixating on the hand still gripping his shoulder. "Over _here,_" Perry said a bit more forcefully, jerking JD's face around again. He moved towards JD with the wet shirt, about to wipe the mess from his face, when JD pulled away once more, head drunkenly lolling to the other side. Having had about enough, Perry released JD's shoulder and instead squeezed his face until his mouth and cheeks puckered out like a surprised fish, turning him until they were face to face. "I. Said. Over. _Here._" Angling JD's head slightly away, Perry roughly wiped the shirt against JD's cheek, brushing the mess into the tub and down the drain. Satisfied, he stood abruptly, tossing the shirt in the hamper. "There. Now get up and put another damn shirt on." _Goddamned kid. Fat lot of good all of this is going to do you. He won't even be able to remember this in the mor--_

JD's eyes glimmered as Perry began to leave. "Dr. Cox!"

"Christ, what do you want _now?_" sighed Perry, turning in the doorway.

"You didn't use soap!" the younger doctor blurted out, grinning like a fool.

Perry groaned, slapping a hand to his face. "Oh, for the love of the Great Spirit. Here you go then, Little Keegsquaw Dancing Water." Reaching toward the floor he grabbed the blue bottle that caught his eye earlier, trained it on his protégé and sprayed several times. "How you'll smell fresh as a fucking daisy. Chopity chop." He slammed the bottle on the counter before finally leaving the room.

JD grinned again, pulling himself out of the tub. His shoulder felt blazing warm, his back felt freezing cold and his face was dripping wet, but he did indeed smell fresh and felt tingly all over. He giggled his way to his bedroom, looking for a new shirt.

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**A/N: I think the ending was a bit abrupt, but I had to end the chapter and post it sometime. Chapter 3 sometime later this week.**


	3. His Solution

**A/N: Whew! Writing this chapter was strange for me. I wrote the end first, then the beginning and middle, and joined them up. I like it a lot, and hope you do too.**

**The ending is not super happy. The next chapter is an alternate ending to this one, hopefully a little nicer. I do love my boys and want them to be happy, after all.**

**Warning: Cussing and pre-slash.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs. I do however now own seasons 6 and 7 on DVD! Woo! Gawd, I hate Kim. She ruined everything. **

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**His Limits -- His Solution**

Carla sighed. "Perry, will you shut up and just watch the show? Some of us are trying to pay attention. Anyways, you already said you liked it, so you can cut the crap anytime now."

"I know I said that, _Carla,_ it was two minutes ago. But if these morons don't quit bungling all over the crime scene I'm going to have to rescind that. Nonono, don't touch that -- oh, my gawd. Did they specifically choose the densest people they could find on the street, or do they grow 'em themselves? Seriously, these kids have "interns" written all over them." Perry knocked back a beer, having switched to the coarser stuff now that he was blissfully inebriated. "Oh come _ON,_ stop tromping all over the evidence! Son of a—"

Elliot poked him in the shoulder with the open end of her beer bottle. "Do you always talk to the little people in the television like that, Dr. Cox? 'Cause you know, they can't hear you." She unsteadily leaned toward him a bit, holding herself up with a hand on the empty couch space between them.

With a grunt, Perry gently pushed her shoulder until she was upright. "You're in my bubble, Barbie. And no I don't always do that. Only when the people on it are incredibly stupid or I'm incredibly drunk."

A guffaw escaped Turk. "Y'all heard it here first, ladies, the invincible Dr. Cox has proclaimed himself Incredibly Drunk! Sir, whatcha gonna do next?" Turk also used his beer bottle to gesture at Perry, this time in a mockery of a microphone.

Perry leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm going to get myself another one." He lurched up, heading toward the kitchen when a familiar figure stumbled out of the adjoining bedroom. "Ah, Sleeping Beauty has finally decided to make her grand re-entrance. Welcome back to the land of the living."

JD groaned, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck out wildly. "Nnngh. What time is it? Is it tomorrow yet?"

"Only been five minutes since you disappeared in there, genius. Glad to see you at least didn't fail your mission to reclothe yourself." Perry subtly looked JD over. His new t-shirt was rumpled, but he could clearly see the bright, smiling, yellow sun displayed on it along with the text "A day without fusion is like a day without sunshine." _Mouth shut, mouth shut, keep your damn mouth shut._ He rummaged through the refrigerator, searching for a suitable brand of beer. "You thirsty there, Little Miss Sunshine? There's still a little more of this frozen toucan piss in the blender."

"Yes, please." A stool scraped against the floor as JD fell onto it, sitting across the kitchen bar from Perry. He leaned heavily on the counter, resting his elbows on it while propping his head up with his hands. "Why're you drinking beer now? Scotch bottle's almost empty."

"Well ya see," began Perry, nodding in the direction of the other three, "I know exactly how much I can drink before I start acting like a complete idiot, unlike those, well, idiots." He and JD watched as Carla and Elliot giggled uncontrollably at Turk as he continued to hold his beer like a microbottle (beerophone?) while singing something that sounded strangely like a sea shanty. "Look at those fools. Do you think they can remember exactly how many they've had, or, hell, _what_ they've had? It's a science, really, what I do. I walk the fine, fine line between totally in control and really blindingly drunk. "This right here," he said while waving the bottle in front of JD, "is it for me tonight." Perry set it on the counter, turning back to the blender.

JD pushed the bottle around the counter, watching trails of condensation evaporate. "What happens if you have another one, if you… cross the line?" he asked quietly.

Keeping his back to JD, Perry poured from the blender into a clean glass. His eyes focused on the stream of icy liquid; it popped out in his vision in sharp relief against the blurry glass and countertop. Sliding the full glass across the counter, he plucked the bottle from JD's hands and replaced it with the drink. "You don't need to know that, Newbie. Not going there tonight." He watched JD warily as the younger man began to drain his glass at an alarming rate. _You were always planning on going there though, weren't you, Newbie?_

Taking a breath, JD paused in his gulping. "Ow. Brain freeze." He glanced at the scotch bottle. "So you're not going to finish that…?"

"Are you serious? You do recall that his never ends well for you, right?" Quirking an eyebrow, Perry nevertheless handed over the bottle.

JD dumped the rest of the scotch into his glass, splattering drops of the dark liquid across the counter. "I know."

Perry sighed. "I can hear your liver choking now."

"Um, that would assume that my liver has an esophagus and/or trachea, which it doesn't." JD dragged a finger through the drops, connecting the dots. "It'd be weird if it did, though. It could like, cough the alcohol back out into my intestines. I could drink all I want and I wouldn't ever get drunk. But that'd kinda defeat the purpose, huh?" Raising his finger to his lips, he tasted the scotch. He only looked mildly disgusted. "Ew. Hope it's better in our new little concoction. Bottoms up, I guess." The glass remained as it was, on the counter, JD's finger slowly circling the rim.

_Goddamnit. Stupid fucking kid, always needing me to make decisions for him. What the hell does he want me to do? Mock him until he drinks it? Make him stop?_

_No, you complete and utter jackass! He wants to talk to you. Stop being a snarky son of a bitch and listen to him._

"So," Perry began, clearing his throat, staring impassively at the damp countertop. "Carla told me you had a rough day."

JD's eyes snapped up to Perry's face, searching for a clue to the reason for his interest. "Did she tell you why?" he asked cautiously. His hands gripped the glass tightly, poised to tip it to his mouth.

"Nope," Perry half-lied. He sipped the remainder of his last beer slowly.

The tension visibly melted from JD as his shoulders slumped. He took a tentative sip of the drink, analyzing the taste for a while before swallowing it. "Not horrible," he mumbled, offering the glass to Perry. When it was declined, he elaborated. "I uh, came to a realization today."

Perry's eyes flicked up to JD's, genuine curiosity masked with automatic false derision. "Sounds earth-shattering."

JD sighed, looking away. "Kind of. Dan had surgery yesterday."

Momentary dread gripped Perry. _Oh shit, if something bad happened to Dan, Newbie would be liable to crack wide open into a million pieces. _He waited a long minute before urging JD to continue. "And?"

"He, uh." JD laughed, but it wasn't his usual happy-go-lucky outburst. It was rough, and forced, and tired. "He had a vasectomy."

Perry cringed slightly. He knew exactly how that went, having undertaken that procedure himself. The memory of it almost made him want to cross his legs and wrap his arms around his midsection. It also made him uncomfortable, contemplating having a conversation about that sort of thing with the kid, but he knew he had to forge ahead to uncover what was eating at him. He prompted him again. "Is he ok?"

"Oh yeah, sure, he's just fine. Peachy, in fact."

Frowning, Perry eyed JD. _I'm practically begging him to have a conversation with me, and he's seriously going to play hard-to-get? What a girl. Fine then. You're gonna owe _me_ now, Carla. _"Okay, help me out a little here. Your brother had surgery that will not only significantly improve his rollicking Casanova lifestyle but will also be like dumping several gallons of sweet, cleansing chlorine into the gene pool, or at least skimming it with one of those nets on a really long pole. He's apparently recovering and is just super dandy. So all of this makes you upset why, exactly?"

JD stared into his melting drink, looking like he would like nothing more than to jump into the dark liquid and swim far, far away. "No more Dorians," he murmured softly, wondering if Perry had even heard him. When the older man didn't reply, JD spoke again. "He's not going to have kids. No one to carry on the name. I told him I was sorry, but he didn't care. Nobody cares that the Dorian line ends with him."

Perry tilted his head, brow still furrowed. He replayed the statement in his head, listening for the unspoken ending. The words echoed in his ears, blocking the other sounds in the apartment from reaching them. The television blared noiselessly. Three mouths in the living room opened and closed, emitting sound that sounded like nothing.

"…_the Dorian line ends with him."_

_Huh. So why does the line end with Dan? That implies that JD's chance ended earlier than that. As far as I know, even though I joke about it often enough, the kid's got all his parts in working order. So what does that leave? Why is he sorry? Does he have such little faith in himself that he'll never have a solid enough relationship to base a marriage on? Come on, has he ever once seen Jordan and me when we were together? Guess that's gotta be it, though._

"Newbie," Perry ventured, "you're being ridiculous. You'll find someone. You will. Just give it some time, don't give up like that." _Alright, if he doesn't eat that father-son crap up, I have no idea what his problem is._

Much to Perry's puzzlement, JD said nothing. He drained the rest of the lukewarm scotcholada in silence, not daring to meet Perry's gaze. He turned the glass over and over in his hands, seemingly looking for something he couldn't find. Perry watched him silently dismiss his friends one by one as they came by, saying good night. Turk clapped him on the shoulder, earning no response. Carla's touch was ignored, and she cast a worried glance at Perry who could only shrug in return. Finally Elliot sat with him at the counter, trying to engage him in bubbly inebriated banter, but JD only nodded vaguely, unhearing. She briefly placed a hand over his, eventually flicking the lights off and trudging through the front door when he didn't react.

Minutes passed. Perry was thinking about giving up the chase and going out to his car to sleep when JD finally piped up.

"I think I need to sit down," he said.

Perry sympathetically almost-smiled. "You are sitting down, kiddo."

JD nodded. "I know." Pushing the stool back, he stood and moved uncertainly to the couch. He sank into the warm spot that Elliot had vacated, resting against the back cushion, staring intently at the flashing television. An exhausted sigh escaped him.

Perry followed him instinctively, settling into the place he had been earlier. He was now openly worried, even more so because of JD's disinterest in his concern. His right arm lay along the back of the couch, hand just behind JD's back. On any other day JD would simply lean backwards into the free hug that awaited him, but tonight he sat like stone staring straight ahead. The kid was being so incredibly enigmatic, but Perry was certain he was close to cracking the case.

"_I told him I was sorry…"_

_Sorry for what? For being an idiot when it comes to women? What the hell is up with you, JD?_

"…_the Dorian line ends with him."_

Ghostly blue light from the television flickered across JD's face, drifting up Perry's arm and wrapping him in a prickly, otherworldly feeling. To him it looked like someone else's hand reaching out, dangling perilously close to the man next to him. He wiggled his fingers experimentally. _Yep, it's mine alright. So, he's obviously not getting this thing you're trying to do. I suppose it's time to take your sole act of kindness of the year and wave it in front of his face like a flag. Go ahead._

As he took a deep breath, Perry's thumb moved, almost of its own accord, and brushed once lightly against JD's shoulder.

The response was instantaneous. JD's eyes went from heavy-lidded and glazed to wide and riveted on the television, his body rigid as though any movement might break whatever spell had just been cast. His hands gripped his own knees, fingers grasping at the denim and squeezing until his knuckles turned white. Amazingly enough, though, JD didn't utter a single word or even a noise. He just sat there, facing forward, waiting.

_Oh. OH. The Dorian line ends with him because… because of me?_

Perry also stared straight ahead, body practically frozen. In his peripheral view he could see JD trying his hardest not to respond to his touch. He frowned slightly, his inner voices arguing over what to do.

_Knock this shit off, Per. You're toying with him. This is absolutely beneath you._

_Get over yourself already. The kid needs someone, he needs you. Give him a fucking hug already. Men hug. Whatever._

_Look at him, though. He's so damn needy. If this is the reaction you get from barely touching him once, imagine…_

_Oh HELL no. You are not going down that path. Not now, not ever. _

_Yeah, it's probably for the best not to anyways. Christ, Carla would flay you. Gandhi would break every single bone in your body, twice. Elliot would… pierce straight through your eardrums and skewer your brain with her voice. In other words, you'd be dead meat there, Perry._

_But you know he wouldn't say anything. He'd never dare, not if it was you. You know how he feels now. Do something. Do anything. Just stop being an asshole, sitting there like you don't give a shit and killing him slowly with your apathy._

His thumb swung back and forth slowly, sweeping through the air like a pendulum poised to slice. In that moment he felt it was an instrument of chaos about to sow discord amongst idyllic lives. Perry saw all of the possibilities laid out before him, stretching like forking roads that cleaved through rolling green pastures. But he was in complete control. He knew exactly which path he'd take, exactly where it would end. He knew when to say when.

Perry Cox knew his limits.

He swallowed once, hard, and grazed JD's shoulder once more with his thumb.

JD's eyes fluttered closed as he carefully tilted his head to the left, capturing Perry's thumb between his shoulder and cheek. Perry could feel his slow, rhythmic breaths as they played across his hand, soft and warm. Even softer and warmer, surprisingly, was JD's cheek. It was almost unbearably smooth, leading Perry to guess that JD had shaved not long before he had arrived. A cool feeling spread outward from the pit of his stomach. It was nearly time to end this… whatever this was.

Nearly time, but not quite. A little more wouldn't hurt _(Hurt who, exactly?)_ too much. So Perry in his infinite and all-knowing wisdom turned over his hand, palm up, cupping JD's face almost tenderly.

Then Perry's tenuous control was immediately ripped from his grasp. JD released his grip on his own knee and reached unhesitatingly to wrap his slender fingers around Perry's wrist. His eyes had snapped open, luminously reflecting the light from the television, as he stared bewildered at his mentor's hand for the second time that evening. After a long moment realization registered in JD's eyes, and Perry felt that cool, uneasy feeling rising. He didn't know if he liked the look on the younger man's face, but he stayed stock still, pulse quickening slightly with anticipation. Seconds or minutes or hours ticked by as JD contemplated the hand in front of him, until finally his eyes slid shut, eyelashes glimmering in the dim light.

"I'm sorry," JD whispered, pressing his lips to Perry's thumb.

His eyes stretched wide in shock, Perry could only stare as he careened down a path that he hadn't foreseen taking. He felt detached again, hovering above incorporeally and watching JD kiss a hand that wasn't his, mildly horrified but unable to act. He tried to grab hold of one of the fleeting thoughts ricocheting around his brain, hoping to use it as an anchor to pull himself back down so that he could take charge again. The closest he got was deciding that they were sitting far, far too close together.

JD apparently disagreed. Swiveling fluidly on the couch, he threw a folded leg up between them and shifted several inches closer, facing Perry without opening his eyes. Both of JD's hands were around Perry's now, and he drifted from finger to finger, grazing his lips across the tip of each before moving on. He punctuated each kiss with the faintest sigh of an apology.

"Sorry." His index finger. "So sorry." Middle. "So," ring finger, "so," pinkie, "sorry." He rested his forehead reverently upon Perry's palm for a moment, murmuring his atonements.

Perry's breath caught in his throat. His chest burned with something unknowable and his arm tingled obscenely from the dark, unkempt hair brushing across it. The realization hit him that JD wasn't apologizing to him; rather, he was apologizing _for_ him. His stomach pitched and he felt momentarily dizzy.

_Forgive me, JD, but I think I'm the sinner here._

As though to prove that thought wrong, JD parted his lips slightly and moistly kissed the vulnerable underside of Perry's wrist, leaving a warm, wet spot that cooled slowly under his breath.

_Oh shit, that was the line. This is too much you idiot, too much!_ Perry fought wildly to return to his senses. By the time he had done so, JD had trailed similarly intimate kisses up his arm, coming to rest at the crook of his elbow. The younger man seemed to be paused again, waiting for a signal to continue. His nose barely skimmed the tender spot, almost nuzzling it.

That signal never came.

Perry gently, almost reluctantly, turned his arm over, effectively cutting off the path that JD was taking. The soft underside of his arm and palm gave way to corded muscle, a thickly veined hand and rugged knuckles. He laid his hand on JD's shoulder, squeezing once, and withdrew his limb from reach. He didn't see JD as he deflated, sagging against the back of the couch, and he didn't hear JD as he raggedly exhaled the deep breath he'd been holding. He simply stood, crossed behind the couch on his way to the door, pulled on his jacket and opened the door.

"I'm so sorry," JD whispered hoarsely, eyes fixed on his own hands resting in his lap.

Perry didn't hear that, either.

---

**A/N: JD's shirt can be found here. .com/tshirts-apparel/unisex/sciencemath/abd4/ -- Also, the show they're watching is Murder, a show on Spike TV that lets regular people solve staged crimes. I tried to fit the title in, but I couldn't do it prettily. Oh well.**

**Next chapter: the alternate ending.**


	4. His Oscillation

**A/N: This is the alternate ending to Chapter 3. It is very, very similar in the early stages, diverging slowly and ending quite differently. Perhaps a tad bit OOC, and as was pointed out to me, venturing into the realm of surrealish Crack!fic.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Scrubs! Gosh, you're starting to make me feel bad here.**

---

**His Limits – His Oscillation**

Perry Cox knew his limits.

He swallowed once, hard, and grazed JD's shoulder once more with his thumb.

JD's eyes fluttered closed as he carefully tilted his head to the left, capturing Perry's thumb between his shoulder and cheek. Perry could feel his slow, rhythmic breaths as they played across his hand, soft and warm. Even softer and warmer, surprisingly, was JD's cheek. It was almost unbearably smooth, leading Perry to guess that JD had shaved not long before he had arrived. A warm feeling spread outward from the pit of his stomach, spreading delicious tendrils throughout his body. Something huge was building, a great wave about to wash over them, and Perry didn't know if he wanted to stop it.

The wave crested above them. Perry was underwater, fearing he might drown, but equally wondering if he could float. So Perry, hopeful for the first time in ages, reached for the sky. He turned over his hand, palm up, cupping JD's face almost tenderly.

JD released his grip on his own knee and reached unhesitatingly to wrap his slender fingers around Perry's wrist. His eyes had snapped open, luminously reflecting the light from the television, as he stared bewildered at his mentor's hand for the second time that evening. After a long moment realization registered in JD's eyes, and Perry felt that warm, pleasant feeling rising. He couldn't quite recognize the look on the younger man's face and so he stayed stock still, pulse quickening slightly with anticipation. Seconds or minutes or hours ticked by as JD contemplated the hand in front of him, until finally his eyes slid shut, eyelashes glimmering in the dim light.

"I'm sorry," JD whispered, pressing his lips to Perry's thumb.

His eyes stretched wide in disbelief, Perry could only stare as he careened down a path that he hadn't foreseen taking. He felt detached again, hovering above incorporeally and watching JD kiss a hand that wasn't his, almost wishing that it was. He tried to grab hold of one of the fleeting thoughts ricocheting around his brain, hoping to use it as an anchor to pull himself back down so that he could participate. The closest he got was wondering if someone had turned the heater on by mistake, and thinking that perhaps an arm's length was far, far too long.

JD apparently felt the same about the distance. Swiveling fluidly on the couch, he threw a folded leg up between them and shifted several inches closer, facing Perry without opening his eyes. Both of JD's hands were around Perry's now, and he drifted from finger to finger, grazing his lips across the tip of each before moving on. He punctuated each kiss with the faintest sigh of an apology.

"Sorry." His index finger. "So sorry." Middle. "So," ring finger, "so," pinkie, "sorry." He rested his forehead reverently upon Perry's palm for a moment, murmuring his atonements.

Perry's breath caught in his throat. His chest burned with something he was almost willing to name and his arm tingled obscenely from the dark, unkempt hair brushing across it. The realization hit him that JD wasn't apologizing to him; rather, he was apologizing _for_ him. His heart leapt up into his throat and he had to force himself to breathe again.

_If you think you're sinning JD, well, that might make two of us then._

JD seemed to sense Perry's indecision. He parted his lips slightly and moistly kissed the vulnerable underside of Perry's wrist, leaving a warm, wet spot that cooled slowly under his breath.

Perry felt a wild shiver travel up his arm and down his back, eyes closing momentarily as the sensation overtook him. _Yeah. Definitely two of us_. By the time his eyes opened, JD had trailed similarly intimate kisses up his arm, coming to rest at the crook of his elbow. The younger man seemed to be paused again, waiting for a signal to continue. His nose barely skimmed the tender spot, almost nuzzling it.

Perry hesitated, holding his breath.

JD continued to wait.

Finally, the tension was broken by Perry's sigh. "Newbie," started Perry uncertainly, his voice low. When the other man didn't respond, Perry sighed again, this time resigned. His limit lay thoroughly forgotten behind him. His head was thick with alcohol, and his tongue was disobedient. He couldn't stop the torrent of truth that came rushing out. "You can't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Dan's a jerk. He's a stupid, selfish idiot. He should've asked. He should've known. They should've known. I… I should've known."

JD chuckled hollowly against Perry's arm, scattering puffs of air across the limb he still desperately clung to. "Yeah, sure. Talk down the drunk boy, put him to bed, pat him on the head. Hopefully, if you're lucky, he won't remember anything in the morning." He shifted yet closer, pressing his lips to the inside of Perry's bicep. "Not gonna work this time. Nice try, though." He kept his head down, not daring yet to make eye contact, busying himself with absorbing the heady combination of scents that dwelled in the vicinity of his mentor's arm: aftershave, dryer sheets, scotch, and something tantalizingly unique.

"Damnit, JD, I never wanted to save you, not once," Perry whispered, grateful for JD's downcast gaze. He was sure the younger man would be devastated by the sentiment in his state, but to his credit JD merely tilted his head slightly, waiting for an explanation. _Alright then, as long as we're playing truth or dare here…_ "I wanted to watch you fail. I wanted you to suffer. I wanted you to see just how backwards the system is, how there is evil in everything and everyone, how the good guys don't always win, and-"

"Shut up," growled JD, and Perry nearly jumped at the forceful command. "Just shut up right now and let me do this, or get to the point if you have one, because I'm never going to be able to do this again and if you're just going to ruin it for me you might as well go."

A sudden urge to flick JD's ear briefly gripped Perry, and he almost laughed aloud at the thought. _Talk about a moment killer. Damn, when did I get so loopy? And where was I going with this?_ "Excuse me Princess, I definitely had a point. I wanted you to _fall on your face_. But you always defied me, somehow. You took the bad things just hard enough, and came back to work like you knew, you absolutely _knew_ it was going to be alright. You hung all over me and took my asinine remarks as gospel, a kernel of truth in every rant. I never meant to save you. You were just--" He managed to cut himself off, almost revealing too much.

JD simply breathed against his skin, knowing he would go on. As Perry had urged him to move with the barest touch earlier, now JD was trailing his fingers against the strong arm before him. He licked his lips and moved yet closer.

"You were you," Perry blurted out, heart hammering in his chest.

JD's head snapped up, his face inches from Perry's, his eyes alight.

_Oh God…_

"You wanted me to fall?" whispered JD, a smile on his lips but not in his eyes. "Well, here I am, mid-air, going down, full speed ahead. This is your big chance to save me, but on purpose this time." His gaze flicked back and forth between Perry's eyes and his lips, and the meaning was unmistakable. "Last chance."

Perry swallowed hard. _Here goes nothing._ "No?"

The smile on JD's lips reached the rest of his face then. "Right answer," he murmured, barely leaning forward to lay a soft, lingering kiss along Perry's jawline. He felt the older man shudder slightly, and grinned. "Rock bottom smells really, really good." JD giggled.

With a sharply exhaled breath, Perry regained some focus. "Hey now, you lulled me into a false sense of, well, something, with that Serious Newbie act. Bring her back. I think I liked her better." His idle hands twitched, but he somehow kept them from wandering toward JD of their own accord.

That comment earned Perry a pout as JD pulled back to look at him. "That's not nice, on multiple levels. But it _does_ mean you like me at least somewhat as Normal Me, which is a step in the right direction. Oh hey, you know what would be another step in the right direction?" JD stood abruptly, offering his hand. "The one that would put you closer to my bedroom!" His mouth stretched into a bright smile.

Perry groaned, trying not to wish those smiling lips weren't still at his neck. "First of all, what you just said? That was horrible. Second, if you haven't noticed already, we are incredibly wasted. I don't think going in there with you would be the best choice at this point. And third… well, there isn't really a third. Just, I'm really kind of in a daze here." JD looked disappointed, but not overly so. _Damn kid and his perpetual resilience._

"I wasn't planning on _doing_ anything. I just wanted to be with you, is all." JD stared at the floor.

"Oughtta bat your eyelashes and squeeze a few tears out next time. You'd be more persuasive that way." Perry smirked half-heartedly, crossing his arms over his chest without much authority.

JD looked down at Perry with a frown. "Fine, then. Have it your way." He marched, mostly in a straight line, to his bedroom. Perry sat confused for a moment, almost entertaining the idea of going after him, when JD re-emerged with an armload of blankets and pillows. He dropped one of each on the floor, and tossed the rest in Perry's lap. "You can sleep on the couch." He began to arrange his floor-blanket, pushing the coffee table away to give himself a bit more room. Settling onto his makeshift bed, JD turned to look up at Perry. "If you have to get up in the middle of the night, please don't step on me." He fluffed up his pillow dramatically, carefully laying his head upon it.

Perry blinked. "You're going to sleep on the floor, when you have a perfectly good bed? What the hell is wrong with you, Newbie?"

Sighing, JD propped himself up on his elbows and looked up blearily. "We sort of just went over that, didn't we?"

A pause. "Newbie…" Perry started, his elbows propped upon his knees, leaning over JD, his face in shadow.

"No, stop." JD stared up at his mentor. "I know you don't like to talk about things, and God, you've talked to me more tonight than you have in the past three months. You must be tired of it." He grinned, trying to play the statement off as a joke although they both knew it to be true. When Perry didn't smile back, JD's grin faltered, and he spoke again. "But I… I understand if…" The gears turned visibly, his mouth working to produce words that weren't readily forming. Finally he decided on, "If you want to forget all this, that's okay. I'll go to sleep, and if I get up in the morning and you're not here, I'll get it. I can't expect you or Turk or Carla or anyone to come to my rescue anymore. I can handle it." And with that JD lay down on the blanket, turning his head away from the couch, and closed his eyes. "Good night, Dr. Cox, and either way, thank you," he said softly.

Perry couldn't say anything to that. _He's giving me an out. After all that_. He simply sat there, staring at the kid for a long while, before arranging his own blanket on the couch and falling into an uneasy sleep.

---

JD awoke with a start the next morning, sitting up abruptly before realizing that doing anything abruptly was a horrible idea. He moaned, shielding his eyes with his hand before lying back down. When he was sure that his head wasn't going to explode, he tentatively removed his hand from his eyes and glanced up at the empty couch. The blanket was folded neatly, the pillow placed carefully atop it. He sighed deeply, bringing both hands to his face and scrubbing at it roughly. _Damnit._

Eventually the sounds of someone puttering around the kitchen reached his ears. The fridge opened, closed. A utensil of some kind dropped into a bowl. The burner on the stove clicked on. Liquid was being poured, and the distinctive sound of eggs being scrambled completed the symphony. Well, his brain and his chest hurt, but at least his stomach would feel good. Thank goodness for Carla. Even though he would've preferred the uplifty-ness of waffles this morning, he couldn't complain with Carla's eggs.

Sitting up more carefully this time, JD dragged himself to his feet. The morning light streamed in the window, and he rubbed his squinting eyes as he shuffled to the table. "G'Morning. Thanks for cooking."

"No problem, Molly. Welcome to breakfast. Want cheese and onions scrambled into your eggs, or shall I draw a smiley face with them on the pan like Mommy always does?"

JD's head shot up, eyes wide, and he didn't even care that his brain was bouncing back and forth like yesterday's jell-o. It wasn't Carla making breakfast, _oh no_, it was Dr. Cox, and he was still _here_, and he was beating the eggs in that bowl with a fork like his life depended on it, and he was grating cheese and slicing scallions and he was in the kitchen and hadn't left, not even a little bit, and all JD could think to say was, "Does that make you Emilio Estevez? Because even though you slept on my couch and probably haven't combed it yet I think your hair is way cooler than his." He grinned foolishly.

"Let's try this again," Perry said, eyes glued to his task. "It's not that difficult. Cheese and onions, no cheese and onions. Yes, no. Yeah, nah. You betcha, no way Jose. Da, nyet. Ja, nein. Hai-"

"Dr. Cox," interrupted JD urgently. A small crease formed between his eyebrows, and he placed his palms on the table, leaning forward.

Perry stopped chopping, knife paused about to cut through a stalk of onion. He didn't meet JD's gaze, but in his peripheral vision he could see JD's tense body language. _Oh God, can't we at least get through breakfast before he starts in on the whole relationship thing for the love of—_

"Dr. Cox," JD said again, "I have something important to ask you."

The knife continued slicing slowly through the onion, coming to rest against the cutting board with a dull thunk. "What is it, Newbie?"

JD gulped. Licked his lips. "Um, what, uh, I mean… what kind of cheese is it?"

Perry considered the knife in his hand, thinking very seriously about committing seppuku. Instead, he answered evenly, "provolone."

The grin was back. "Yes, please!" announced JD, perhaps more enthusiastically than he meant to.

Perry began to stir the piles he had prepared into the bowl of eggs. "Atta girl Claire," he muttered. "Hope three eggs is enough. There's gonna be toast, too."

JD was practically swooning, beaming at Perry as he assembled breakfast. He had so many things to tell him. "Carla usually makes me five," was what he chose to say.

"_Five_?" Perry's eyes were wide as they finally focused on JD. "Are you _trying_ to send your cholesterol through the roof?"

"No," said JD defensively. "I just really like them."

Perry snorted. "Well so do I Newbie. But at least I know my limits."

The corners of Perry's mouth twitched as soon as the words were out. When Perry started snickering to himself, JD cocked his head curiously. The snickering soon evolved into chuckling and then full-blown laughter, and even though he had no idea what was so funny, JD couldn't help but laugh too, because he knew whatever it was must be really funny, and he hoped that it would soon be an in-joke between them, and damn, did it sound like music when Perry laughed like that. And he had the most wonderful feeling that from now on all of his Sunday mornings would be sunshine and eggs and laughter.


End file.
